


Stars Aligned

by nelliesbones



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27670954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelliesbones/pseuds/nelliesbones
Summary: And what about stars; stars aligned? Can they pull you and me into forces unknown, forces unseen? Can they burn us with cosmic energy or has the burning already taken place in a candlelit motel room in Bellefleur, Oregon and in countless motel rooms ever since? ... Mulder and Scully struggle with the aftermath of "Syzygy".
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

STARS ALIGNED

I.

Somewhere halfway around the world, a butterfly beat its wings. Do we know if it caused more than a mild turbulence in the air? Know if it influenced anything but the orchid petals a few inches away? And what about stars; stars aligned? Can they pull you and me into forces unknown, forces unseen? Can they burn us with cosmic energy or has the burning already taken place four years ago? Taken place in a candlelit motel room in Bellefleur, Oregon and in countless motel rooms ever since…

X

He almost came to his senses, as he pulled the crotch of her panties aside, as he pushed himself into her warmth. Almost. Something in the back of his mind reminded him that this was not right, even though the absolute rightness of her wrapped around his body was some kind of epiphany. The sharp pain of her fingernails cutting into his back made him groan, and some distant part of him was wondering, if she had even consented to this.

Everything was such a blur. One minute, she had been yelling at him, the next his hand had been tunneled in her hair, tugging hard. He remembered the perfect o her mouth had shaped right before he had crushed it with his lips.

_Oh_ ...

He could find the combination of cigarette smoke and anger in her mouth; a flavor he had not thought he would ever taste on her. She was his friend, his partner. His only companion on a path so full of forks and blind alleys. But right now, none of that mattered except for his hips pistoning forward, pinning her to the wall. She was warm and wet and for once, she wasn't disagreeing. Was she?

She could have stopped him, Scully was sure of that. True, he was bigger and heavier than she was, but she was quicker and more ruthless. She could have stopped him before his tongue had entered her mouth, before his hands had been under her skirt, ripping her pantyhose to pieces. Stopping him would have been reasonable and she always did the reasonable thing. So… why hadn't she? Stopped him.

Nothing about this made any sense, nothing about this case, this town, this evening. Her hair had been electrically charged every since they had set foot into Comity, but that was nothing compared to the lightning bolts he was firing into her system with every move of his pelvis.

Oh my God, he was moving inside of her, so very deep inside of her. She had thought about it, of course she had, but this was so unlike any dream Scully had ever had about him. Was this even Mulder? This wild creature moving between her thighs, so hard and hot, beads of sweat forming on his furrowed brow. And was she even herself? And what about all the liquid heat melting her from the inside out?

The air was crackling, as her mouth fell open, as gasp after gasp pearled from her lips, and then he pushed her impossibly further into the wall, opened her thighs impossibly wider, hit her just impossibly deeper, and right before she exploded from the inside out, right before all the energy centered around their intimate connection, her eyes snapped open and so did his, and in that last moment, recognition washed though his orbs as hazel me blue, as storm met fire, but it was too late, too late to stop, too early to regret, and she shook deeply as she came all around him, tugging him with her, tumbling into that new kind of abyss until there was nowhere left to fall.

“Oh my God,” on her lips and his name. His name. Always his name.

Dizziness. Heaving breaths. Aching joints.

The flap of a butterfly's wing.

Oh.

_Oh ..._

_Oh fucking shit._

“Put... put me down.”

Her voice was raspier than usual, her lips swollen, and Mulder followed her demand with cautions precision. He caught a glimpse of her pink folds, as his softening penis slipped out of her with a sad sound, and the intimacy of it was too much to bear.

“Scully...”

She cut him off by raising her palm.

“Don't.”

She tried very hard not to look at him, as she tugged at her skirt to cover herself, as he rearranged his pants and fastened the fly.

“I'm...” she tried, before her voice trailed off.

“Sorry. So sorry,” he mumbled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, but she shook her head.

“Not your fault,” she managed to say. 

He lifted his hand with the intent to cup her cheek, stopping himself in the last moment, unsure if he could ever touch her again.

“Dana,” he whispered, but she squeezed her eyes shut while shaking her head.

“I have to go.”

Then she was gone, and in addition to the slam of the door, Mulder could hear a sound he had not heard before in the four years of their partnership, not once. The key turning around in the adjoining door, as she locked it.

X

Slowly, as if on autopilot, Dana Scully made it into her bathroom. Her hand was shaking, as she opened the faucet to warm up the water, and her heartbeat was louder than the rush, almost deafening so. She could feel wetness gathering between her thighs, and then reality hit her with full force.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

Mulder's semen inside of her, running out of her.

“Oh my God.”

It was almost a mantra, and realizing that there was something she needed more urgently than a shower, Scully closed the tap again, hurrying back into her room. With fingers still trembling, she shook a cigarette out of the box and lit it.

Inhaling deeply, she let the smoke burn her lungs, hopeful it could Mulder's taste from her palate.

Mulder's taste …

“Oh my God.”

His lips were bruised, and he could still feel her kiss. The air in his room smelled like sex and her. It was a heady combination, her usual scent mixed with with the dark and rich flavor of shared passion.

Now that the haze of the moment was gone, regret was filling his very core. He had invaded her body without getting to know her, hell, they hadn't even undressed. He remembered glimpses of milky-white and pale pink, as he had tugged at and ripped her clothes, but he hadn't seen her. So many years, so many fantasies, and now the only part of his body that had actually gotten a show was little Bob down there. And he remained sated and silent.

Inhaling deeply, Mulder hung his head in shame. He'd spent years earning her trust – had he just lost it all in an angry quickie against the wall? And had she, he wondered again, had she given her consent or had he taken something she hadn't intend to give? That thought pained him more than anything else.

He dragged his feet towards the door, placing his flat palm on the wooden surface.

“Scully?” he whispered, and on the other side, he could hear a sharp intake of breath, followed by soft footsteps. Soon, he could sense her presence right behind the particle board. 

“Scully?” he called once more, and this time, he got an answer.

“I'm here.”

“Can you tell me what just happened?”

She shook her head even though he couldn't see it.

“Maybe you're right after all and strange forces are taking ahold of this town.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, God no. You… no, Mulder, you did not hurt me.”

“Did I… Scully, have I forced myself onto you?”

“No...”

“Why does it feel like it, then?”

“Mulder, this is not us.”

“But we can't undo it, can we?” 

A sad smile tugged at his lips, as he thought about the feeling of her in his arms.

“We can't.”

“Will you… will you ever leave this door unlocked again?”

She put her forehead against the door.

“Mulder, it's not you I'm afraid of.”

He let go of a deep breath, as some kind of burden was lifted from his shoulder.

“Scully, I tell you what we'll do. We solve this case, we leave this town and when we're back home, I'll make this right. I don't want to lose my partner. My best friend,” he whispered, and he could hear a muffled whimper from the other side of the door. 

“OK,” she finally breathed, not knowing how exactly he wanted to make things right, but too scared to ask.

No more words were spoken that night, but he remained on his side of the door for a little longer and so did she; craving the connection, even in the midst of chaos.

X

We are but visitors on this rock, hurling through time and space at 66,000 miles an hour. Tethered to a burning sphere by an invisible force and an unfathomable universe. This most of us take for granted while refusing to believe these forces have any more effect on us than a butterfly beating its wings halfway around the world...

X

Dana Scully had always been good at lists. To do lists, shopping lists, bucket lists, pro and contra lists. Every since Mulder had touched her sans touching her, she was obsessively going over a new list in her head: things she knew about having sex with her partner.

She knew how to kiss Mulder, knew the sounds he made in the back of his throat. She had smelled his arousal, had experienced said arousal unleashed in and all over her. She knew how it was to undo his zipper, and, for the fraction of a moment, she had felt the hard length of him in her hand. She knew that he stretched her wholly, remembered how utterly divine and forbidden it had felt. She knew that he could make her come in just a few minutes, fully clothed against a wall. That was that.

On the other side, there were the things she didn't know, and they filled a book. How did he look unclothed? How did it feel to be in his arms skin to skin? How would it be to kiss every inch of his body, to be kissed in return? What did he like in bed? What could he do to her with his tongue after practicing on all those sunflower seeds? How would he be if he wasn't so angry?

Scully had been careful, so very careful not to cross that line with him, and now she had and hadn't done it at the same time. The conundrum drove her nuts. How was she supposed to put the experience neatly into a box, to relabel Mulder as partner and friend, when there were so many unanswered questions left?

Would his five o'clock stubble chafe the inside of her thighs? Would she be able to wrap her mouth all around his thickness? Would he allow her to hold her and could she ever let him go?

As cosmic forces were unleashed, as planets and stars realigned without mercy for two girls and their town, Scully couldn't stop wondering.

X

When they finally made it out of Comity, New Hampshire, out of the reach of cosmic turbulence and star-crossed girls, the scratches on his back had just begun to heal. Scully was driving, not caring about stop signs or speed limits, just intend on leaving the last few days behind. She couldn't speed up fast enough to outpace the awkwardness, though. Mulder was silent next to her, fiddling with the radio station, and she was grateful for it. They cut the distance to the airport in record time.

Car rental. Check-in. Security check. Coffee shop. Gate. A half-empty domestic flight. They maneuvered through their back-home-routine without the soft comfort of routine to fall into.

Because things were different; fundamentally so.

Ever since their encounter in his hotel room, Mulder had made an effort not to touch her, and even though a confused and vulnerable part inside of her could appreciate the gesture, it only added to her irritation. Scully couldn't remember a time when he hadn't touched her, hadn't invaded her personal space and when he almost jumped next to the baggage conveyer belt after accidentally grazing her arm with his, she had enough.

“Mulder, for the love of God, would you just touch me?”

And, for the first time since _that_ _night_ , she lifted her chin, offering her gaze to him, finding remorse and hesitancy in his big puppy eyes. A shiver ran down her spine, and the first intake of breath was somehow hard, but then it got easier. She tried a smile, and he accepted it, returning one of his own.

“I'm trying to do the right thing,” he whispered, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, try again,” she stated drily, “because this is driving me nuts.”

Mulder chuckled a bit.

“Well,” he began, opening his arms while giving her a lopsided grin.

Averting her eyes almost shyly, Scully took another breath before stepping into his embrace. His arms closed around her, palms drawing circles on her back, and she placed her cheek on his chest, like so often before.

The scratchy wool of his coat, the tang of sunflower seeds, his breath caressing her hair – being in Mulder's arms was utterly familiar and comforting, but at the same time, there was something new, something about the way her body reacted to his scent now that it  _ knew _ him.

Mulder sighed, pulling her even closer.

“Thank you. For, I don't know, being my partner in this mess?”

She hummed, letting go of him while still being able to. His arms unlocked, setting her free.

“I will right this, Scully.”

“Mulder, you don't have to right anything.”

“That might be true, but, well, the least I owe you are new pantyhose.”

She opened her mouth, but closed it again, lost for words and blushing.

He grabbed their bags and started to walk. She would follow, he was sure.

No matter how complicated things might get, there was still one universal truth: they always followed each other.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

II.

We are bound by gravity, tethered to this earth by a natural phenomenon that brings all things with mass or energy towards one another. In the days following Comity, it was as if Fox Mulder's gravitational system had been altered because, more than ever before, he found himself gravitating towards his partner. They had been close for quite some time, but now he dreamed about her, literally, and her scent called out to him on a whole new level.

Keeping his promise, he went shopping for her, only to get lost in the vast pantyhose selection at Walmart. In the end, he went for small and chose three different shades plus the promise of silkiness. Mulder was pretty sure that, technically, he owned her a new pair of underwear as well, but aside from not knowing her size or her preferred style, he didn't want to get underwear for her at Walmart. He ended up going to a rather exclusive lingerie shop instead and bought a gift card for her. Then he added a bar of chocolate and a bag of M&M's to his purchases and put everything into a nondescript plastic bag which she found on her desk three days after Comity.

Watching her carefully, he didn't miss the rosy blush on her cheeks, didn't miss how surprise turned into something else. He didn't miss how she bit her lip before finally lifting her gaze. Didn't miss the softness in her voice as she thanked him.

Warmth filled his chest, filled their office, and when she offered some of her M&M's to him, he took them gratefully.

When five o'clock came and he helped her into her huge winter coat, she made sure to take his hand for a moment, squeezing it.

Mulder spent the rest of the evening with his fish, trying very hard not to think about his partner and expensive lingerie.

X

Beep.

“Scully, it's me. If you want to go for a run later today, just give me a call.”

Beep.

“It's me. Again. It doesn't have to be a run. We could do pizza and a movie as well.”

Beep.

“Also, I got an email from a buddy in North Carolina about a series of exsanguinated bobcats. We could look into that as well.”

Beep.

“Not that you have to spend your Saturday with me, Scully. I, well, just give me a call.”

_You've got four new messages._

While Mulder was busy talking to her answering machine, Scully was browsing the mall, circling one very expensive looking shop she had never set foot into before. As a federal agent, Scully was used to exploring unknown spheres, usually she had her gun in her hand and Mulder by her side. The prospect of entering this realm of lace and silk and stockings was way more scary. Procrastinating a bit longer, she took a detour and went for the coffee stall. Ten minutes later, high on caffeine and with Mulder's gift card burning a hole in her pocket, she finally braced herself and entered the store.

X

“Frohike, it's me. Quick question, you can access Scully's answering machine, can't you? .. Great. Can you delete my messages from today? … You don't have to listen to them. No. Don't! … I don't sound like a desperate puppy, thank you very much. … Listen, it's complicated. … No, I'm not taking my invitations back. I just need a fresh start. … That's none of your business. … Listen, I really appreciate your help. … Sure, that's what friends are for, hacking into other friends' answering machines. … Yeah, see you on Tuesday. Bye.”

X

Beep.

“Scully, it's me. Do you have any plans for tonight? We could do dinner and a movie. Just give me a call if you're interested, and I make reservations.”

X

Half an hour in the fitting room, a light lunch and some grocery shopping later, Scully unlocked her apartment door, stopping right in her hallway to do her usual intruder scan. Ever since Tooms, since Missy, her home had lost its innocence and Scully could never enter it without stopping for a second and feeling if something felt off.

Today, everything seemed fine. Her answering machine was blinking, indicating a new message. Thinking about her mom and the vague promise of breakfast on Sunday, she kicked off her shoes and made sure to put away her purchases first. The groceries went into shelves and fridge without much care, but then she took the satiny paper bag, the one holding one very special set of lingerie, and she carried it almost tenderly into her bedroom.

She had tried different colors, different styles from bold and sexy to classic and elegant, constantly forbidding herself to think how Mulder would like it on her. In the end, she'd gone with her guts, settling on ivory lace. It looked good on her, it felt like Dana and it was somehow both alluring and modest. Running her hand over the thin material, she shivered, imagining it on her skin and another set of hands on it.

Scully couldn't really explain it, but somehow this thoughtful gift card felt a lot more intimate than the sex she had shared with Mulder. For the hundredth time since Comity, Scully missed her sister with fierce longing, wishing Missy was still here to discuss this with her. What would she say? Something about fate and endless roads leading to one outcome? Or would she just congratulate her uptight younger sister on letting go for one moment?

And that was just the crux of the matter, the one thing that stopped her from putting Comity behind her: her inability to label the experience.

Could it be just sex?

Or was it fate and bound to happen anyways?

She'd never felt for someone like she felt for Mulder. It was a mix of profound irritation, fierce protectiveness, the certainty that you'd walk to the end of the earth for him, friendship, loyalty and attraction. It was so much bigger than “relationship material”, so much more than the beginning of a love story. But... what was it?

Analyzing it tied her brain in knots, and Scully sighed, none the wiser, when the blinking light of the answering machine came back to her mind.

A moment later, his voice filled her apartment...

X

She said yes to movie and dinner, of course she did.

He let her choose between “Lawnmower Man II” and “From Dusk till Dawn”, and she voted for George Clooney and vampires. They shared popcorn, and every now and then, their hands brushed in the bucket; every now and then he leaned in, his breath caressing her ear, as he informed her about some factual errors, coming to the conclusion that, while Quentin Tarantino was an excellent film maker, he wasn't an expert in vampirism.

Scully had the time of her life with Clooney on the big screen and Mulder right beside her. And thanks to the vampires, it didn't even feel that surreal, almost reminded her of work, instead.

It was only when the credits had rolled, when they moved to the restaurant for dinner, that it suddenly dawned on her that this was a date. Or wasn't it? He wore jeans, a shirt and his leather jacket. His face was freshly shaved, and the restaurant slightly more fancy than their usual choice. He hadn't brought her flowers, but he'd picked her up, and now he was taking his time studying menu and wine card. There was a wine card – definitely a date, right?

“Thanks for initiating this,” she said after the waiter had taken their order. “I had fun.”

“Me too. Nice movie choice.”

She laughed out.

“You didn't really give me much of a choice. Lawnmower Man? Really?”

He shrugged.

“Lawnmower Man _II_. Sounds very promising. I have the first part at home and I don't wanna tell you too much, but there's one guy operating a lawnmower and this other guy who's experimenting on, well, I don't wanna spoil it for you. We could watch it sometime.”

Their drinks arrived, and, tilting her head, she took a sip of her wine.

“Yeah, we could,” she finally said, twisting the napkin in her hand as she was, for the second time that day, stepping into foreign territory.

Lifting his own glass of wine, he cleared his throat.

“To vampires. Excellent topic for movies and x-files.”

She lifted her own beverage to chink glasses with him.

“To you,” he continued with a soft smile, “listening to my vampire ramblings since 1992. You look nice, by the way. I'm not sure I said that before.”

And, just like that, he'd done it again, catching her off guard. Looking down at her simple skirt-and-shirt combination, Scully tried to come up with a reply, but was saved by the waiter arriving with their food, leaving her time to recover while he was gazing at her over lasagna and Tortellini Alfredo.

X

The evening continued to be, for the lack of a better word, lovely. The food was lovely, and so was the wine, even though he switched to water after the first glass, being the designated driver. The company was lovely as well, maybe even more so. They conversation flowed easily from movies to books and college stories. When the dessert menu was offered, they didn't say no, but in the end, neither of them managed to finish the tiramisu.

Lingering a tad longer, she took another sip of her wine, searching for courage at the bottom of the wine glass while rolling its stem between her fingers.

“I used your gift card today. Thank you again. That was very thoughtful.”

He made an effort not to avert his eyes, but took a deep breath. It was time, it seemed, to address the big elephant in the room.

“That's the least I could do. I... Scully, I ripped your clothes. I... I just took without asking.”

She shrugged, grateful to have some alcohol in her system for that conversation.

“And I pushed my hand into your pants, grabbing, well, _you_ without asking permission as well.”

Mulder felt heat rising into his cheeks, as little Bob down there twitched at the memory.

“But...”

“Not buts, Mulder. Technically, there's no difference.”

He shook his head ever so slightly.

“Still, I never should have touched you like that. You were under the influence... at least somehow.”

Syzygy. Cosmic forces. Fateful energy.

“Maybe I was. But, following your logic, so were you.” Reaching over the table, she nudged his fingers with her own. “Mulder, you didn't do anything to me. Please don't victimize me. As far as I'm recalling, I was as much an active participant as you were. Our _encounter_ might deviate from your usual style. I know it did from mine. But it was... memorable and pleasurable. We just have to find a way to deal with it, I guess.”

“Scully, I have to confess, so far I'm having a hard time dealing with it.”

Despite all the candor in his eyes, she started to giggle, leaving him utterly bewildered.

“Scully?”

“Hard time, Mulder. _Hard_ _time_?”

His head fell onto the tabletop.

“Seriously?” came his muffled voice. “I'm baring my soul to you, and you're laughing?”

“I'm sorry. Go ahead. Bare your soul.”

Lifting his head, he looked at her with a pout.

“I still find it ha... _difficult_ to wrap my head around the fact that you and I… well, you know what we've done.”

“Hmm... how did you put it? We were under the influence.”

Inhaling deeply, he nodded.

“It feels as if you offered me the answer to all questions, and I didn't even look, if you know what I mean,” he finally whispered.

“Believe me, I understand exactly what you mean. And, if it's any consolation, we're on the same page,” she confessed, feeling more relieved than she could comprehend. For some reason, this made all the difference – not the part where he'd wallowed in self-loathing, but his simple revelation that he had kind of a list about things he didn't know about having sex with his partner as well.

He let his fingers graze her knuckles before taking her whole hand into his, squeezing gently.

“So... you used your gift card?”

Thinking about ivory lace, she nodded and her lips curved up.

“Let me say, this might be the most expensive set of underwear I've ever owned.”

Once more, his cheek felt hot.

“I'm glad you found something you like.”

“Oh, I like it. A lot.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again before shaking his head ever so slightly while smiling softly, thinking about Scully and lingerie.

“I should probably not say this out loud, but once again, I feel so robbed.”

“Thank you. For some reason, this means a lot.”

They left shortly afterwards, and he drove her home through the nocturnal city. The feeling of her on the passenger seat next to him was utterly familiar, and they spend the twenty minutes to Georgetown in comfortable silence; so much had already been said anyways. It was cold outside, a freezing January night just a few weeks after the big East Coast Blizzard, but the inside of the car was warm and cozy; the lingering kind of warmth that follows good food, good company, good conversations.

When he stopped in front of her apartment complex, she turned to him with bright eyes.

“Thanks again, Mulder, I had a wonderful time.”

“Yeah, me too. Scully... I meant everything I said. And that includes the invitation for the big 'Lawnmower Man' watch party at my place.”

She rewarded him with a big smile, and he lifted a hand, cupping her cheek, touching her once again with natural ease. Tilting her head ever so slightly, she leaned into his palm before shifting a bit to place a kiss on his wrist, and for the last time that evening, he allowed himself to drink her in. His gaze traveled over her face, her alabaster skin, the soft waves of ginger, the deep blue of her eyes, the fullness of her lips, and for the briefest moment, Mulder felt an overwhelming kind ache in his chest.

Then she removed herself from his touch and reached for her purse.

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

“Goodnight, Scully. You're waving, right?”

Nodding, she reached for the door, bracing herself for the cold outside, leaving him behind with a trace of her perfume and a lingering sense of rightness. When he saw her at the window shortly after, waving at him, he started the car, heading home.

Forty minutes later, nestled on his couch, Mulder closed his eyes, and for the first time in a week, he didn't see himself pounding into her. Instead, the somewhat torturous image was replaced with her happy face glowing in the candlelight, tiramisu and red wine in front of her.

Things were finally right again.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

III.

“Langley, it's me. … Yeah, we're still on for Tuesday. Listen, can I borrow your van? … No, nothing fishy, just home decorating. ... No, that's not a lie. It's kind of a bedroom versus storage situation over here, I need to shuffle some boxes around. … Hey, I swear, that's the truth. … What? No, that has nothing to do with my messages on Scully's answering machine. … No! Ah, well, you know what? You were right. It is kind of an x-file mission, super secret, though. So, can I borrow the van?”

X

Mulder didn't really scrutinize the sudden impulse to declutter his bedroom, but he spent the better part of his Sunday going through boxes and taking things to the thrift store. Mid-afternoon, he had unearthed the furniture that gave the chamber its name and by the end of the day, he had a somehow presentable room and sat down on his neatly made bed, ready to face the question whom it should be presented to.

And who was he even kidding?

Ever since Scully had lifted the burden of guilt from his shoulders, he couldn't stop thinking about her; couldn't stop thinking about his hands under her skirt, the feeling of her body wrapped around his and the look in her eyes as she'd fallen over the edge. But most importantly, he couldn't stop thinking about the things he hadn't done. He hadn't undressed her, hadn't looked at her, hadn't seen her spread out in front of him. And he wanted that, he wanted time to marvel at her, time to explore her, time to treat her like she deserved to be treated. He wanted to hear her breathless voice telling him what to do and he wanted her in his arms afterwards.

With a sigh, he rubbed his brow.

Mulder didn't know if he'd ever get another shot, but he knew one thing: If the occasion ever arose, he wouldn't want to lie down with her on his couch. He wanted a bed, clean sheets and a room that looked and smelled nice.

And when he slipped into his freshly laundered sheets at the end of the busy day, he realized that having a proper bed was, even aside from hopeful fantasies starring his partner, a wonderful feeling.

X

On Monday, Skinner assigned them to the Violent Crimes Section for a case that needed his profiling and her medical skills. Mulder complained a bit, but mostly for common courtesy. For once, he didn't want to be sucked into the lure on an x-file, and since they could work together anyways, the assignment was okay – turned out to be quite satisfying even.

The awkwardness that had clouded their interactions since Comity was gone, replaced by a new kind of awareness. When Scully told him about Sunday breakfast at her Mom's, he observed reflections of sunlight in her hair, and after two autopsies back-to-back on Tuesday, he could tell that her neck was sore from the way she favored her shoulder. He filed away the image of her sunlit hair and stopped at the drugstore during his lunch-break to buy some hot patches for her. She thanked him sweetly, and he wished he could just give her a massage.

Tuesday evening, he met with the Gunmen for cheese steaks and conspiracies, trying to maintain his poker face when they asked him about Scully, wondering if her shoulder was still aching.

On Wednesday, a straightforward case, a down-to-earth unsub and textbook detective work resulted in an arrest. They shook hands with their fellow agents as they parted, and for once nobody called them spooky. 4 pm found them back in the basement with nothing but reports to write.

Feeling rather jolly, Mulder threw a pencil in the air and it hit the ceiling with perfect accuracy.

“Ha.”

From across the room, her eyebrow arched up.

“So, Scully, I was wondering...”

“Yes?”

“A man. His lawnmower. Pizza and beer?”

“You really wanna make me watch this movie?”

He nodded.

“You're missing out. How about we call it a day and meet at, let's say seven o'clock at my place?”

She pondered her plans for the evening, but already knew that there was nothing more promising than an evening with Mulder in her cards.

“Alright. But just for the record, my expectations are very low.”

“Ah well, low expectations can be kind of a blessing,” he said with a wink, and for the rest of the evening, her mind kept on repeating that sentence.

Low expectations, it told her while she dressed casually and comfortably; low expectations, it reminded her when she drove to his apartment, when he opened the door in sweatpants and his Knicks shirt. He greeted her warmly, leaning down to brush her cheek with his lips, and her heart skipped a beat. Low expectations.

The pizza was huge with a thin crust, green peppers, pepperoni and mushrooms, just like she preferred it, the beer was cold, his couch as comfy as always, and the movie was... about as terrible as expected.

“He experimented on apes?”

“Don't they always?”

“And now he thinks it's a good idea to continue with the gardener?”

“Well, he is kind of successful, don't you think?”

“Successful in creating a half-digital sociopath?”

“Just because the project director swapped the drugs.”

Her brow crinkled in adorable incredulity.

“I can't believe you make me watch this.”

“Come on, only twenty more minutes. The director's cut is half an hour longer, by the way.”

“How come you down own that one?”

“Oh, I do. In fact, I have both versions.”

“That makes me a bit sad.”

Leaning in, he bumped her shoulder with his, playfully so, but nonetheless, she winced slightly, immediately gaining his full attention.

“Crap, sorry. Your neck still sore?”

She gyrated her head carefully.

“A bit. The hot patches helped a lot, though.”

“Can you turn around?”

“What? Why?”

“I'm gonna give you a massage.”

Speechless and surprised, she stared at him for a moment, before finally shifting on the couch until he could face her back. He surprised her once more by gathering her hair in one hand before asking,

“You've got a hair tie?”

“No.”

“Ah, it's OK. I think this will work nonetheless.”

He massaged her scalp with both hands, letting her soft tresses run through his fingers, before pausing one more time.

“Scully, you're the physician. I trust you to stop me before I inflict permanent damage to your delicate spine.”

She chuckled, but nodded, and then he touched her for real. Palming her neck, he pressed his fingers into the knots right next to her vertebrae, kneading firmly. Her head fell forward, and she sighed.

“Good?”

“Yes.”

His voice had gotten breathy somehow, but so had hers.

He continued to work her muscles until they were like putty under his fingers. Every now and then, he dipped low into the neckline of her oversized shirt, exposing a pale bra strap on her shoulder, wondering if this might be the one. He circled her shoulder blades and moved to her upper arms, and just when he was back at the base of her skull, combing her hair with his fingers once again, the buzzing sound of the rewinding VHS tape brought them back to reality.

His fingers stilled on her shoulders, and she lifted her right hand, covering his left one with it. Splaying his fingers, he made room for hers between his own, and she accepted it, intertwining her fingers with his.

“We missed the end of the movie,” she finally said.

“Ah, there's still the director's cut, if your interested.”

Scully laughed out, but it turned into a yawn pretty soon, and after a brief moment, she allowed herself the dangerous luxury of leaning back into his chest. Mulder let go of her hand just to wrap his arms around her from behind. Her head fell into her neck and came to rest on his shoulder, right beside his chin, and she could feel his smooth skin at her temple.

He had shaved. Again.

“Thank you for the massage, Mulder. I feel really good.”

“Anytime,” he murmured into her hair, and his breath so close to her ear created goosebumps on her arms.

“I should go. It's getting late for a Wednesday,” she finally said, and his gaze wandered to the window that separated them from the cold January night, only to be met with the surprising sight of heavy snowfall.

“Oh. Hmm, Scully, don't get me wrong, but I don't think you're going anywhere tonight.”

He could feel her freeze in his arms, but then he lifted his hand and pointed at the window.

“Look.”

“Oh no. Mulder, I have to go.”

“You shouldn't be driving in this.”

“But I really don't wanna sleep on your couch. I mean, it's a good couch, I like it a lot. But I need a bed.”

“And you shall have one. Come on.”

Disentangling himself from her, he got up, noticing that she had stayed put. He offered his hand to her.

“Come on,” he repeated, and, with a puzzled look on her face, she accepted his hand, following him to his bedroom. His bedroom?

“Mulder,” she breathed, but then he opened the door, revealing a full-fledged bedroom with a real bed to her.

“Wow, I didn't see that coming.”

He waved his hand in dismissal.

“Since when do you have a bedroom?”

“Technically, it had always been there, just the storage situation had gotten a tad out of hand. So, you're gonna stay? There is an emergency set of clothes in your car, right?”

She nodded.

“Great. I can give you a spare toothbrush. What do you say?”

Her gaze wandered from the surprisingly tidy room to his expectant face.

“I say thank you for your offer. Given the heavy snowfall, staying overnight seems sensible.”

Rubbing his hands, he turned towards the closet, coming back with one of his own shirts and a set of towels shortly after. Putting them onto the bed, he vanished once more, this time in the direction of the bathroom. While Mulder was rummaging around, Scully crossed the room, walking towards the window. Now that she didn't have to go out anymore, she snow looked absolutely pretty. Not as magical as the first one of the season, but still enchanting. She inhaled deeply, absorbing this moment of peace, while the icy flakes were dancing in the night air, silently covering streets and cars. Then Mulder was back, stepping beside her, sharing her moment.

“I found a new toothbrush and some kind of moisturizer. It's a sample pack, I got it while shopping your pantyhose, actually. The cashier probably thought there was a Mrs at home.”

“Thank you, Mulder.”

“I'm glad you're staying.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Do you want fresh sheets on the bed? I only changed them last Sunday, but...”

“That's OK. You smell nice,” she confessed, and something in his chest overflew at her quiet words. Ever so gently, he lifted his arm, and she didn't hesitate to lean into his side. His hand slid down her shoulder, cupping her upper arm, and she turned her head until her nose was burrowed in the sleeve of his shirt.

“Snow is a funny thing, don't you think? Basically, it's just rain, but then you change one variable and suddenly, instead of just wet, everything is beautiful.”

“Hmm,” she simply hummed, wondering if he was still talking about snow, and since she was already as good as hugging him anyways, Scully turned around to take him fully into her arms. One second later, Mulder returned the embrace, cradling her safely in the circle of his arms.

He was everything solid, everything warm, but beneath the utterly familiar comfort of his hug, something else awoke, something that was both age-old and brand-new. Arousal.

A tightening sensation deep in her belly, heat unfurling even lower. She could feel her nipples hardening against the lace that was cupping them. Scully wrapped her arms even tighter around his back, pulling him flush against her body. A soft gasp left his lips, and she found out with sudden clarity that he wanted her as well. His lips landed on her neck, sucking gently, and a lightning bolt of need shot through her very core.

“Mulder.”

His name tumbled out of her mouth, and he inhaled a shuddered breath, as he nuzzled her neck one last time before stepping back a few inches.

“Scully,” he responded, his breathlessness matching her own.

“I...”

Taking her hand, he lifted it to his mouth, grazing her knuckles with his lips.

“You need a safe place to sleep, nothing else.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

To emphasize her point, she let her gaze fall to the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

“I need to be able to look into your eyes tomorrow morning. And I need that more than anything else.”

He knew he'd said the right thing, when he saw a mixture of regret, acceptance and relief washing over her face.

“But... know that I am tempted. That I think about you. All the time.”

Lifting her hand, she traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, His eyebrows, cheekbones, the rose-petal texture of his lips. They'd done that before, but this time, she didn't stop. Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, she replaced her fingers with her lips, moving over his with infinite care. He stilled, as if to protest, and for the fraction of a moment, she waited, but then he was right there with her, accepting what she had to give.

Opening his lips to let her in.

It was warm inside his mouth, so warm and welcoming. Her tongue slipped inside as if it wasn't the first time, and technically it wasn't, but Comity had gone by in a rush with no time to capture the moment. Today, she knew there wouldn't be more than this kiss and she wanted to make it count. Scully took her sweet time to explore the inside of his mouth before meeting his tongue in the most intimate dance. And once more, his arms went around her, almost lifting her from her feet, as he crushed his lips to hers, as he showed her just how tempted exactly he was.

They kissed with lips and tongues and hands, kissed in unison with the snowflakes and their flurry dance around each other, and the heat inside of her threatened to melt the snow on the other side of the window. They only broke apart when the need for oxygen became impossible to ignore, and, even though she was panting heavily, her face was aglow with the brightest smile.

And Mulder could look into her eyes, as he bid her goodnight.

X

His bed was wonderful and smelled, indeed, a bit like him. Scully turned around, hugging his pillow and thinking about him out there on the couch. He was fine, she knew that he was fine, that _they_ were. Outside, the snow was reflecting streetlamps and moonlight, bathing the room in an ethereal glow. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so at peace, and that was the thought carrying her to sleep.

X

On the other side of the wall, Mulder was experiencing a similar level of peace and gratitude, even though he had more difficulties falling asleep thanks to the deep ache in his groins. He liked that she was in his bed, liked it a lot. But he didn't really know what to do about it.

The alarm awoke him at 6 am. A glance at the window told him that the snowfall had stopped sometime in the night, leaving behind a thick white blanket. Digging out his car wouldn't be fun. He made a quick detour to the kitchen to start the coffee machine before going for a shower. Once dry, he remembered that his clothes were in his bedroom together with Scully, so he wrapped a towel around his hips.

Padding into the hallway and opening the door happened very carefully, and she was still sound asleep, snoring softly. Red curls were spilled all over his pillow, and she looked so impossibly young and small that he had to stop for a moment, utterly mesmerized by her alabaster beauty. He knew that she was fierce and strong and accomplished, but right now, she was also soft and drowning in his shirt. A mighty wave of protectiveness hit him hard.

She was his partner. And he didn't really know how to deal with the rest of the truth.

Inhaling deeply, Mulder turned towards his closet because the last thing that he wanted was for her waking up and finding him staring at her, half-naked nonetheless.

Five minutes later, he was back, fully dressed and a cup of coffee à la Scully in his hand. This time, he tried to be as disruptive as possible, but still, she didn't wake up, only furrowed her brow in sleep. Eventually, he approached the bed, taking a seat on the mattress beside her, brushing her sleep-warm cheek with his knuckles.

“Scully?” he whispered, and she groaned without opening her eyes.

“Scully?” he tried again, but she simply rolled around, presenting her back to him.

He chuckled.

“Good morning, Scully. Hello? Good morning.”

Outstretching his hand, he stroked her shoulder, and this time, he knew that she'd woken up.

“Good morning,” he said one more time, and she turned around, looking at him with unfocused eyes. He felt himself softening from the inside out.

“Coffee?”

She nodded and cleared her throat.

“Hi,” she finally said, her voice still thick with sleep.

His lips curved up.

“My bed suits you.”

“Hmm. It's a very cozy bed. Why are you dressed?”

“Well, one of us has to find and dig out your car to get your clothes.”

“I parked under the tree line by the curb, maybe we got lucky and it was protected a bit.”

“That's good news. You wanna take a shower?”

Taking a sip of her coffee, she nodded.

“Yes, please. And thank you for the coffee. “

“I'd offer you breakfast, but all I have is leftover pizza.”

She scrunched up her nose.

“Maybe we can get a bagel on our way to work?”

Nodding, he leaned over, brushing her hair with his lips and inhaling her early morning scent before finally getting up.

“Next time, there's gonna be breakfast,” he promised before he walked out, leaving her behind with a swarm of butterflies. Next time...

He found her car, got her clothes, they made it to work. Plus the bagels. And for the rest of the day, she drove him crazy with the scent of his shower gel on her skin.

Mulder wasn't sure if it was heaven or hell.

To be continued ...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the smutty part.

IV.

Are we solitary planets traveling through time and space or are we twin stars orbiting around one another in perfect synchrony, only shining the brightest when together?

And why, oh why is it sometimes so hard to spot the difference?

X

Work kept them busy with paperwork for the rest of the week, but in the tiny space of their basement office, the pull got impossibly harder to ignore. A sigh from her, and the hairs on his arms stood up; his tongue rolled around a sunflower seed, and she couldn’t stop thinking about his mouth.

By Friday afternoon, Scully was almost suffering. He was both way too close and not close enough all the time, distracting her wholly with every little thing he said and did.

At three o'clock, she couldn't stand it anymore.

“Wanna come over tonight?” she blurted out, aiming for casually but failing miserably.

Fortunately, he was suffering from just the same kind of distraction.

“Come over?”

“Yeah. Dinner at my place? I haven't prepared a proper meal in a long time.”

“Sounds great. You want me to help?”

Scully pondered the idea of Mulder in the kitchen, but decided they probably shouldn't operate knives next to each other right now.

“No. You can bring the wine.”

And, just like that, suffering had turned into exquisite agony.

X

When seven o'clock came, Scully was well prepared. The chicken was roasted, the potatoes mashed, the salad dressed.

There was make-up on her face, her hair was in curls, a short dress was hugging her body.

He was on time, holding a bottle of wine and flowers in his hands, swallowing hard, when he saw her.

Mulder knew almost every version of her, but this one was new to him.

The way she looked at him made him nervous, and he was kind of glad when they were sitting at the table, dinner on their plates. He complimented her on the chicken, even though he didn't really taste it, but he had a dawning suspicion that he wasn't here for the food anyways.

One glass of wine turned into two, as their plates were emptied and pushed aside. He couldn't stop looking at her. Her hair curled around her ears almost playfully and her dress revealed more of her body than she usually allowed him to see. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and his eyes flickered back to her face.

“Mulder,” she finally said, and he lifted his eyes just a few more inches to meet her eyes, her deep blue eyes.

“Thank you for dinner, Scully.”

“You're not leaving, are you?”

“I don't think I am, am I?”

She nodded.

“I want you to stay. The night. With me.”

His stomach did a somersault, as her words sunk in.

“Scully...”

“I can't stop thinking about you, Mulder. Comity... that wasn't us, but it was. I remember bits and pieces, but I missed the whole picture. And I keep wondering. I want to see you. Feel you. All of you. It drives me crazy and I can't move on. Just one more time. One more time, Mulder. To answer all the questions.”

She put her hand on the table, and he reached for it, taking it into his.

“I'm asking you to do this, Mulder, and maybe I'm asking for a lot. One more time. To move on. Please. Please...”

Already, he was tugging at her hand, and she was falling into his arms, her second “please” dying on his lips. She opened her mouth immediately, not giving him the shadow of a doubt that she really truly wanted this. He found wine, pepper and lemon in her kiss, but underneath those flavors there was the one he had missed so much. Scully, just Scully.

Scully, who had marched into the woods with him, her thick parka swallowing her whole. Scully, who had stood in the raining dung with him. Scully, whom he had almost lost but gotten back. Scully, who had followed and trusted him over and over again. Scully, just her, always her.

She moaned into his mouth, and heat was coursing through his veins. The kiss went on and on, as tongues stroked each other, as he was falling into her, just like she was into him, but the angle was just a tad awkward. Eventually, she got up from her chair, and, with infinitive grace, took a seat on his lap, straddling him. Her dress rid up, exposing a sliver of thigh, and his hands slid down her side, cupping her waist from both sides. He could feel her warmth through the silky material, and the pressure of her weight on his lap was exquisite.

And, still, the kiss went on.

Her hands tunneled in his hair, mussing him up, and finally his lips broke free from her mouth, traveling lower, kissing a line along her jaw to her collarbone. She gasped, as his tongue joined in, licking the delicate skin at her neck.

“You smell so good,” he murmured, and she sighed, as her head fell onto his shoulder, as she repositioned herself until the vee of her legs was right above the hardness in his pants. His hands on her waist clenched, and then he pulled her onto his lap even further. Spreading her thighs just a bit wider, she moved over him without shyness, creating the sweetest kind of friction.

“What do you like?” he murmured into her hair, sucking her earlobe into his mouth, and she shivered almost violently.

“This, I like this,” she stuttered, and the he could feel her nimble hands working on the buttons of his shirt until the fabric fell apart. Sitting up, she let her eyes travel over his chest, let her fingers follow shortly after, running through his coarse chest hair, circling the hard peaks of his nipples.

Mulder pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and watched her watching him.

Her face clouded for a moment, as she found the scar from his gunshot wound, the one she had put there, and then she bend forward, kissing the puckered skin tenderly.

“I'm sorry I hurt you,” she murmured against his flesh, but he shook his head.

“You saved me. You've saved me over and over. From them and from myself.”

Her lips wandered from his scar over his chest, and when her teeth grazed one nipple, he inhaled sharply. Using her tongue, she soothed the sensation before repeating it on the other side. Between her legs, she could feel him twitch in response.

Then, for a moment, she allowed herself the luxury to pause on his chest. Pressing her ear to his skin, she found the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. It went hard and fast, pumping life and excitement through his body.

His arms closed around her back, anchoring her in the moment, but then he moved down her spine until his hands were cupping her buttocks. He massaged her flesh with bold fingers, going lower and lower until he'd reached the hem of her dress. She'd opted for stockings instead of pantyhose, allowing him access to the soft skin of her thighs, access to so much more, and then it was her turn to suck in a breath.

She sat up once again, rubbing deliciously over his bulge. His hands enveloped her hips and moved up, taking most of the dress with them until it was bunched up and he could see her panties, ivory and lace. The fabric was impossibly thin, and he could smell her wanting him. Lifting his hand, he let one finger run over the roughness of the lace, and it was more a tease than a caress, but her eyes fell shut and she inhaled deeply. He could feel her heat, and he stroked her again and again, until, ever so slowly, one finger slipped underneath, touching her so very intimately.

“Yes please,” she gasped, and he caressed her once more before stopping right over her clit, applying gentle pressure.

“You wanna come or play?” he asked, and she circled her hips, causing his finger to slip between her folds until it was perfectly positioned at her entrance.

“Are you sure you can deliver?” she asked, arching up an eyebrow, and he added a second finger to his first one, waiting for her decision.

“I'm known for my determination,” he stated, lifting one corner of his mouth, and she tilted her pelvis just a bit further until he almost slipped inside. Almost.

The softest moan escaped her lips, and he almost lost it. Almost.

“I find it difficult to come from fingers alone. I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you and me,” she finally confessed, and he wanted to protest, wanted to make it oh so good for her, but decided that this wasn't the time, wasn't the place to prove a point.

“Can I play, though?” he finally asked, and she laughed out breathlessly.

“Be my guest.”

And with her permission, he pushed his fingers inside of her, once, twice, deeply. He could feel her muscles fluttering around him, and the pressure in his pants got even more urgent, as she sighed.

“Mulder...”

And he played, played her so well, and even though this was new, he somehow knew how to touch her. Or maybe she would react to him no matter what just because it was him.

When his fingers slid out of her after a while, they were damp, and she watched with parted lips, as he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. Her eyes widened, pupils dilated, and his face twisted in pleasure.

“I've been wondering since Comity,” he finally said, and when he met her eyes again, they were burning with raw intensity.

“I can't believe you did that,” she uttered, and he pulled her into his arms.

“Oh, believe me, I'm gonna do so much more before this night is over,” he promised, lips crashing into hers, sharing her taste with her. Need pulsated deep within her, and with every stroke of his tongue, it grew hotter and louder. Seeking some kind of relief, she circled her hips anew, and from below, he pushed into her.

His hands were on her, all over here, as if he couldn't decide where to touch first, but then they settled on her breasts, cupping them and finding their prominent peaks through silk and lace.

Gasping into his mouth, she bit his lip just this side of gentle.

A loud groan emanated from his chest, and she tore her mouth from his, watching him with hooded eyes.

Her cleavage line had slipped out of position, exposing another sliver of ivory.

“Is this _the_ underwear?” he managed to ask, and she nodded wildly.

“I wanna see it,” he said, and it wasn't a question.

Scully got up on wobbly legs, and he watched her as she blew out all candles but one. Her hair was utterly disheveled, her lips swollen, wrinkles all over her dress.

Mulder took a mental photo of her, filing it away in the cabinets of his mind.

“Let's go to bed,” she finally said, giving him a look that sent shivers down his spine.

Hurrying to get up, he almost tumbled over his own feet, but then his hand was in hers, and she was guiding him towards her bedroom, the remaining candle in her other hand. She put it on her nightstand, before reaching around her dress, finding the zipper. He watched her, utterly mesmerized, and then the dress flowed down her body before landing in a puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it, stepped out of her heels as well, standing before him in the prettiest set of underwear he'd ever seen, but maybe he wasn't that objective anymore.

“Oh, Scully,” he breathed.

“Your turn,” she simply said, and he shed his own clothes in haste until his state of dressing matched hers.

Her gaze wandered from his toned legs over his black boxers to his broad shoulders.

“You're so beautiful,” she said, and he almost blushed under the sheer intensity of her gaze, finding it hard that she was speaking about beauty while standing there, looking as if the word had been created solely for her.

She was the first to break the stalemate, turning towards the bed and crawling to the middle of it on all fours. He was over her within seconds, covering her body from behind, biting into her shoulder.

“You're done playing then?” she asked in a husky voice, and he surprised her by licking down her spine.

“I'm just beginning,” he murmured, bypassing the clasp of her bra and moving towards the sweet swell of her ass. He softly bit into one cheek, and she gasped, falling flat onto the bed. His hands found the hem of her underwear, stilling for a moment.

“I'm gonna take that off,” he said, and he did so, pulling lace and stockings down her legs. Moving up again, he undid the clasp of her bra, gently pulling the straps down her arms until nothing else was covering her milky-white skin.

“Yes,” he said, “oh yes. Turn around?”

Following his demand, she moved on the bed until she was spread out in front of him in nothing but candlelight. She was slender and curvy at the same time and above all else, it was still Scully, still her. It was the familiar blue of her eyes looking right into his very core, was the familiar shape of her hands. Just everything else in between was excitingly new, the perfect heaviness of her breasts, the dusky pink of her areolas, the wide flare of her hips and the small triangle of short curls at the juncture of her thighs.

His hand moved reflexively to his groins, squeezing his aching cock. Licking her lips, she followed his movement.

“You want me to take care of that?” she asked in the breathiest voice, but he shook his head.

“No, not now. Right now I wanna share one of my favorite fantasies with you.”

He watched in awe, as her thighs fell apart, as her hand moved between her legs.

“For years I've been dreaming about my head between your legs. I wanna lick you, I wanna suck you. Until you scream my name. Do you think you might like that?”

She nodded wordlessly, and he captured her wrist, pulling her hand to his lips and sucking her fingers, the ones that smelled like her, straight into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digits, as he gave her a little sneak peek of what he intended to do to her. Her eyes fell shut, and then his lips replaced his fingers, as he was kissing her once more, kissing her like she'd never been kissed before, not even by him. She was panting, when he left her mouth, when he moved lower, focusing on her breasts for some delicious minutes.

“This,” he whispered, licking around one hard bud before sucking it into his mouth. “We didn't do this in Comity.”

“No, we didn't,” she managed to say.

“I've been wondering. So much.”

“Me too.”

“You're perfect.”

She laughed out and he moved lower, his tongue dipping into her bellybutton before sliding further down. Making himself comfortable between her legs, he brought his palms under her buttocks, holding her in place. Ever so helpful, she spread her legs, granting him access, and he inhaled deeply, taking another mental photo, one for the lonely nights.

“Please,” she finally whispered, and with one last shuddered breath, he lowered his full lips to her, kissing her so very intimately for the first time. Then he opened his mouth and licked her firmly from bottom to top. And again. A gush of wetness hit her center, and she was almost embarrassed because she was sure he must feel it, but he simply held her in place, groaning into her flesh.

Deciding to consign herself to his intimate caress, she grabbed fistfuls of sheets in her hands, wrapping her legs around his shoulders.

Then his lips were around her clit, suckling gently, and she officially didn't care anymore. All that was left were his lips on her, all that was left was the vibrating sensation beginning deep in her body. He licked and he sucked and he moaned and just when it was almost too much, his fingers joined in, entering her in one long stroke.

She came, long and hard, pulsating against his lips, cursing softly and thanking God at the same time, because this answered so many questions at once, so many.

Her legs fell apart, utterly boneless, but he wasn't done yet. In a move no one before him had ever made, he pushed his tongue into her, fucking her deeply while his nose bumped against her clit. She cried out, and then his thumb flew over her anus, rubbing her, and it was almost too obscene, but at the same time it was Mulder, and she trusted him infinitely. Almost against her will, she came again on the wings of her first orgasm, crying out his name.

“That's it,” he murmured, “that's my girl,” kissing her one last time before emerging from between her legs, and she expected a smug grin on his face, justified so, but all that she found was vulnerable reverence.

Unexpectedly, she was at the brink of tears, and then she was in his arms again, skin to skin, and he was soothing her with gentle words and caresses. In urgent haste, his boxers were pushed down, and then he was in her palm, hard, hot and velvety at the same time. With a whimper that betrayed his need, he shoved her hand aside.

“Please, I need,” he managed to say, and she moved with him until he was on his back and she on top of him. And under the safety of her covers, they met again, as she welcomed him into her body. Just like the last time, he filled her completely, stretching her almost painfully, and his hands flew over her, touching her everywhere at the same time.

“Scully,” he breathed over and over again, and she fell down onto his chest, finding his lips, as they began the ancient dance of men and women.

“I want...”

“What do you want, Mulder, tell me.”

“You. Everywhere.”

Using his last amount of strength, he rolled them around until she was on her back, until he was enveloping her completely.

“This okay?”

“Yes, God yes,” she answered, wrapping her legs and arms and heart around his back.

And he rocked into her, rocked into her for all the questions, all the answers, and with every thrust, he discovered some piece of himself in her. Nobody had ever accepted him the way she did, nobody had ever looked at him like Scully, so pure in bliss and wonder.

One more time, she'd asked for one more time, and Mulder made sure that this time, they would remember everything. He tried to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible, but soon he was losing control.

Her fingers were digging into his ass, pushing him even deeper into her, and he looked down at her beautiful face, taking another mental photo, one that would probably kill him with sheer longing for the rest of his life.

“Look at me,” he rasped, and her eyes flew open, displaying everything that was. Deep and wet and blue, he thought, and then he lost control, pounding into her without sense or rhythm.

She moaned his name, clutching him tightly, and for the third time that night, he could feel her orgasm rolling through her in mighty waves, as, she too, lost control.

“Come for me,” she whispered, and helpless against the onslaught of feelings, he obeyed, releasing in hot spasms deep inside of her.

Releasing more than just his semen.

X

The first thing he noticed afterwards was the thump-thump of her heartbeat. The second thing was her hand combing through his hair. He was lying on her chest, probably crushing her, but as he tried to move aside, she protested with a meow, holding him firmly in place.

“This is part of the fantasy,” she finally murmured, and Mulder nestled deeper into her embrace, as the utmost feeling of being accepted washed over him.

“Dana,” he whispered, just because he liked the feeling of her first name on his lips in the raw hours of the night.

Her fingers paused for the fraction of a moment, before resuming their caress, slowly lulling him to sleep.

Eventually, the change in his breathing pattern told her that he'd dozed off, but Scully didn't mind. As a physician, she knew it was quite a normal post-coital reaction for a man and as a woman, it gave her some time to process all things.

Now she knew.

Her “sex with Mulder list” was brim-full with anecdotes and information. He'd answered almost every unspoken question, and before the night was over, she wanted to get the rest of them. She wanted him to come in her mouth, and she wanted to watch his face while he did so. She wanted to wake up in his arms, sore and satisfied from a night of passion.

But first of all, she wanted water.

Disentangling himself from her snoring partner, Scully padded into the bathroom, cleaning herself. She debated for a moment whether to use a robe or not, but in the end, shyness won. Before covering herself, she studied her body in the mirror. Did she look changed? Her lips were pink and a bit swollen, and so were her nipples. Scully couldn't see her clit, but she was pretty sure that the little bud was probably redder than usual as well after all the attention it had gotten. There was a reddish spot on her shoulder where he'd bitten her, and she was glad to find real evidence on her body.

Finally putting on her robe, she moved to the kitchen, getting a glass of water and drinking it all at once. Her mind was going a mile a minute, still replaying everything that had happened, and so she missed his approaching footsteps until he was suddenly right next to her, gloriously naked and utterly disheveled. While he didn't seem to share her modesty dilemma, the expression on his face was almost shy nonetheless. To put his mind at ease, she looked him fully in the face, giving him a warm smile.

“Water?”

“Yes please. You were gone. I thought...”

She shook her head.

“I was thirsty. Also, I remembered dessert.”

“There is dessert?”

An eyebrow arched up, as a suggestive glance traveled down her body, and despite the fact that he'd just touched and licked almost every inch of her, she had to blush.

“Ice cream. You want some?”

“Yes, please. Why are you wearing this?”

He tugged at the flimsy sash of her robe, didn't even intend to open it, but it fell apart nonetheless.

“Oh, sorry...” he began, but then he couldn't look away, and if possible, she was even more stunning in the aftermath.

“It's just,” he looked up, giving her an apologetic grin, “you're so damn beautiful.”

The blush on her cheeks intensified, but she was brave enough to push the garment down her arms.

“It only seems fair,” she said, gesturing at his lack of clothes.

Looking down at himself, Mulder experienced a moment of hesitancy.

“Or I can get dressed. If that's what you want.”

Taking a deep breath, she answered, “What I want is ice cream. Maybe another glass of wine. And then I want to go down on my knees and I want you to come in my mouth. Is that OK for you?”

He gulped hard, finally nodding.

X

Ice cream led to fellatio let to another sweet recovery phase led to even more sex and a shared shower sometime after midnight. It was almost 1 am when they finally fell asleep, helplessly entangled in each other. He was spooning her from behind, one hand cupping her breast, and if they hadn't been so damn tired, one of them might have realized the absurdity of doing something so right, so earth-shattering just one more time. They'd closed a gap, crossed a line, and those who'd uncovered the truth – can they possibly move on and leave it behind?

Tired as they were, both of them basked in the afterglow, happy that they'd managed to answer all the questions Comity had left.

And when they awoke in the next morning, perfectly vulnerable in each other's arms, even sunlight couldn't chase away the intimacy of the moment. He didn't kiss her, wasn't sure if he was allowed to, but they shared sweetness and breakfast before he said goodbye, leaving her alone on a bright-new Saturday morning even though every part of him wanted to stay.

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

V.

There were people watching them, had been for years; kind eyes, bored eyes, the eyes of enemies. There was one thing they all had in common, one truth all of them had seen long ago: she was his biggest strength and his greatest weakness, just like he was hers. Together, they were in perfect balance and greater, so much greater than just the sum of their parts.

Almost everyone around them had known it for years, the universal truth Mulder and Scully were just beginning to grasp...

X

She tried to read. She went for a walk in the snow. The book couldn't hold her attention and she only met couples and families on her walk.

No matter what she did, every time she closed her eyes, she saw Mulder. His dark head between her legs, his face so innocent in sleep, his gorgeous cock thick and hard right in front of her. They were arousing, her memories and they were sweet. What should have put her mind at ease after Comity, should have satisfied long-standing curiosities, had worked in the opposite direction. She craved more and even more of him.

Scully knew that she should probably change the sheets on her bed, but she didn't have the heart to wash away his scent, their scent, at least not yet. She allowed herself to postpone doing the laundry for one more day.

Sex with Mulder had been unprecedented, and Scully could almost see Melissa taking a seat right next to her, giving her a somewhat pitiful look while taking her in her arms. “Oh Honey,” she’d say, and the memory was so vivid that Scully was almost able to smell her sister, lemons and a trace of incense sticks.

Saturday evening found her in a bubble bath, soothing her sore body, and finally she was able to admit that it had been more than – albeit spectacular – sex. She remembered getting all emotional in his arms after her second orgasm, remembered the sheer awe on his face as he'd looked at her; and she remembered four years of chasing him, shining a light in the darkest corners, having his back just as much as he had hers.

“Oh no, no, no,” she uttered while sliding down until her head was underwater.

She had a problem.

X

Unbeknownst to her, in another part of the town, her partner had just the same problem. He'd played basketball, he'd gone to the supermarket. Ever since he'd promised her breakfast, he made a point to have fresh food in stock, just in case. The chicken sandwich he had for dinner reminded him of the meal she'd prepared for him, just like a million little things and more brought back an onslaught of memories.

Memories of happiness, designed to torture him because of one thing she'd said: one more time. They'd shared one more night, one more night to get over their star-crossed encounter, but that one night had opened the floodgates, at least for him.

Mulder didn't want “one more time” anymore, he wanted her all the time, wanted her in his life in more ways than a partner, than a friend.

He had that epiphany sometime between lunch and cleaning, but he had no idea what to do about it. After all, she'd asked for one more night and he'd delivered. He couldn't just call her and change the parameters, could he?

Just to take his mind off Scully, he called his mom, and the conversation was as awkward as always, but at least they managed ten minutes of politeness before hanging up.

Then there was nothing left to do, and he plopped down onto his couch, bracing himself for an evening of channel surfing and...

…two hours into it...

…there was a knock on the door...

…and there she was, snowflakes in her hair, her gray sweatshirt way too big for her graceful frame, wearing a mixture of determination and panic on her face.

“Scully,” he said, his heart beating in his throat, and she stepped into his apartment, kicking off her shoes before turning to him.

“I'm glad you're here,” he continued and some of the panic left her expression.

“You are?”

He nodded wordlessly.

“Can I stay?”

“One more night?”

Gnawing her lip, she looked away, but he caught her chin with his fingers, lifting her gaze to his.

“One more night and then some,” she finally confessed, and the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders, as he could feel a huge grin splitting his face.

“You like that?” she asked incredulously while observing his reaction, and he spread his arms for her. Without hesitation, she stepped into them, finally able to breathe.

“I like that a lot,” he reassured her before burying his face in her hair, breathing in her beloved winter scent.

“I have to say this 'one more time' thing didn't work so well for me. Well, it did last night, but in retrospective…” she murmured into his chest.

He chuckled, and his hands moved over her back with a new sense of liberty.

“Scully, I have feelings for you. Deep and scary feelings.”

Inhaling deeply, she nodded, tightening her hold on him, and he continued, “You're the last person I wanna talk to before falling asleep and the first one I want to see in the morning. I want you as my partner, I want your respect, your trust. But I also want to kiss you every day. I want to hold you at night. I want to make you come using nothing but my fingers. I really can't let go of that one, thank you very much.”

Now it was her turn to giggle, even though there were unshed tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Mulder, I think I love you,” she finally blurted out, and he inhaled a shuddered breath, enveloping her completely, as the purest kind of joy overwhelmed him.

“Yeah, me too. Me too. You mean the world to me, Scully.”

“Is that gonna be a problem?”

He hummed.

“I've already loved you three weeks and three years ago. In the grander scheme of things, it doesn't change a thing.”

Lifting her head, she looked up into his eyes, and he took her face in both hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, as he lowered his mouth to hers, and right before he met her, a smile broke out on her face, and he caught it with his kiss.

But just when her tongue grazed his bottom lip, he pulled away again.

“Scully, please don't leave me when I forget to bring flowers on Valentine's Day or when I run off chasing yet another x-file or when your brother tries to talk some sense into you.”

“I haven't left, yet, have I?”

She gave him a mischievous grin, before pulling his head down to resume the interrupted kiss.

“I love you,” he said again, “I love you so much,” and hearing it was still so new that her heart overflowed with warmth.

Bending down, he surprised her by lifting her up, walking in the direction of his bedroom, and as her head fell onto his shoulder, Scully had the reassuring feeling that everything would be okay.

He would make her come with nothing but his fingers, he’d hold her at night. Tomorrow after breakfast, they'd take a walk in the snow together, maybe even build a snowman. In a week or two she might tell her mom about him, pretty sure that Maggie would be over the moon.

During their next case they might realize that compartmentalizing their feelings for each other was nothing new, and he would forget neither Valentine's Day nor her birthday.

After all, they were Mulder and Scully, and they had already chased stranger things than romance.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we're all approaching the end of a year that has redefined normality, let me just say: thanks for reading my story. I've had so much fun writing it, and there's nothing "just" about fanfiction. It's not "hiding from reality" because this, too, is real. The joy it brings, the feeling of being a part of a warm and loving community. Take care and have a safe and merry Christmas!


End file.
